Work Text:
It takes a surprisingly long time for Sukuna to notice them.
Normally not much can escape attentive red eyes, especially not four of them. But his vessel is a special exception. Yuuji is an exception to many rules. Able to house the king of curses, inhuman strength for an average human, and unfairly cute with a personality that grates on Sukuna’s every nerve.
It really is a shame he’s not like his little friend, Fushiguro, who caught Sukuna’s eye on his last stint in control of their shared body.
Yuuji is a menace, a pest, but it doesn’t stop a begrudging fondness that bubbles up from the darkest cracks in Sukuna’s soul every now and again.
If only Yuuji could keep his mouth shut.
It’s for exactly this reason that little details about Yuuji simply slip past Sukuna’s attention. Too ensnared by spilling brilliant shades of blood and cracking bones to stardust every chance he gets.
They finally make themselves known on a random visit when Sukuna is skirting around the brat. He only catches them for a second, a dusting of spots on the bridge of Yuuji’s nose. But Sukuna thinks nothing of it. Writing it off as dirt on Yuuji’s face before crushing his skull under a worn sandal.
The next time Sukuna see’s them is when he’s bored enough to spy on the human world.
Modern mortals have come so very far in their quest to tame the elements.
Not even the king of curses can deny his curiosity every now and again to see what contraption Yuuji might be using at any given second.
So he opens one sleepy eye, glancing around from his perch along Yuuji’s cheek bone.
They’re in the bathroom facing a large mirror and a countertop with various bits and bobbles strewn across it.
Yuuji looks to be half asleep and slightly wet, holding some kind of metal object that whirls with the heat of a roaring fire that he fans at his hair.
Thankfully he’s too distracted to notice Sukuna watching.
So with a leisurely gaze, Sukuna takes his time inspecting every item available to see from his vantage point. Not much makes sense, the names only come to him with some light prompting from Yuuji’s memories. A toothbrush, hair gel, face creams, a razor for shaving.
(which Sukuna thinks is particularly funny, because his brat couldn’t grow facial hair if he tried.)
He then looks up at the mirror again, unable to deny his fascination at seeing both himself and Yuuji from a new and interesting perspective.
It’s like looking into a lake with no depth, no distortion. And it’s only because of this that Sukuna see’s them again. The same dusting across Yuuji’s face.
Logically he now knows it’s not dirt, but it still looks like smears on his skin. Patches on the bridge of his nose and right at the corners of his eyes, though faint.
Sukuna’s only able to take a few seconds longer to study them when a sudden rough fabric scrubs up directly against his eye, forcing his retreat. It leaves Sukuna to grumble and hiss from his throne as Yuuji continues to dry his face from the shower, blissfully unaware.
From there Sukuna catches a few more glimpses of them. In the black glint of the TV, in mirrors and windows and sometimes even in Yuuji’s dreams.
It’s the rarest thing, to be treated to these mystery markings in one of Yuuji’s dreams. Human’s have the hardest time replicating their own facial features. The concept is just abstract enough that Yuuji’s face usually looks like a swirling mess.
Memories are much the same. Humans tend to pour details into inconsequential features rather than faces. Like furniture or paintings or a particularly lovely flowered shrub.
Sukuna gives himself a moment, in that memory, to admire the blooms on the plant. They’re dahlias in shades of oranges and pink and why Yuuji even knows enough about them to think so hard about one single bush is beyond Sukuna.
But this little game continues on and Sukuna finds he doesn’t mind it too terribly. There’s not a lot to do when trapped in one’s own head. It’s a welcomed distraction from boredom even if it does involve the vessel that Sukuna can only stand in microdoses.
For a brief moment, Sukuna entertains the idea of asking Yuuji questions.
Disgust quickly follows when he thinks about how the brat would respond. He can practically feel the anger that would roll off of Yuuji, the way his voice would pitch in mistrust. In short, it would be annoying.
So Sukuna watches.
Eventually a chance presents itself when Yuuji comes tumbling into his domain unannounced. Landing in a graceless heap at the bottom of the bone pile with a whine of pain and a muttered, “oh you gotta be kidding me.”
Sukuna would deny to his second grave that he perks a bit, curious to see Yuuji enter without being forcibly dragged in.
“Well,” he purrs in delight, “what are you doing here, brat?”
Sukuna might hate when Yuuji speaks, but he can’t deny his pleasure when little scowls or pouts adorn his vessel’s face.
Right now Yuuji’s cheeks are puffed up, eyes narrowed as he attempts his best murderous glare at Sukuna.
(If anything he looks like a half drowned cat.)
With minimal effort Yuuji shoots up, jabbing an accusing finger at Sukuna and splashing water everywhere as he snaps, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me! You brought me here, right?”
A groan gets caught between Sukuna’s teeth, turning into a sigh as his mildly good mood deflates back into irritation.
“Keep pointing and I’ll cut that hand off again,” he warns, “you brought yourself here.”
Unlike most of their interactions, Yuuji doesn’t immediately begin to toss more accusations around.
Instead Yuuji answers with a soft, “really?” A small bout of confusion simmering on his face as his eyes begin to roam the expanse of the domain as if it holds the key to his questions.
It quickly grows quiet, Yuuji all but ignoring Sukuna in favor of really studying their surroundings and entertaining whatever little thoughts are fluttering through his head.
This is also incredibly irritating.
So Sukuna rises from his bone pile and pushes off. Feet touching down just in front of Yuuji, the layers of his kimono fluttering around them like the wings of a phoenix.
This time the smudges on Yuuji’s face catch his immediate attention, so before the brat can speak Sukuna catches his cheeks in a crushing hold.
There’s a squeak and Yuuji makes a half assed attempt to escape until Sukuna growls. The sound is low and deep and rumbles in the very space between them causing Yuuji to lock up. His eyes are wild with surprise and enough obedience for Sukuna to finally study what’s been hidden in front of him.
Huh.
“Freckles…”
Yuuji has freckles.
They remind Sukuna of dandelion seeds, blown in a whimsical fashion across the bridge of Yuuji’s nose and swirling near the corners of his eyes right where the marks are.
It’s not anything Sukuna has ever seen on his own face, not that he really studies it all that often.
They’re something unique to Yuuji, his own little brand.
They’re cute.
Sukuna’s teeth set on edge at the sudden declaration but he doesn’t see a point in denying it. The freckles are cute and they make Yuuji look boyish in the same way his cheeks do, still soft with baby fat.
Absently Sukuna runs his thumb across smooth skin and wonders if he blows low and strong, he can scatter the little dandelion seeds and make a wish.
What would he wish for, he thinks with mild amusement.
Cheeks twitch under his hold before he can think too much on it. Yuuji begins to squirm a little, ensnaring Sukuna’s focus once more. The brat has the audacity to look annoyed, the effect ruined by a rich flush that’s growing along his ears and his neck.
“Are you done yet?” Yuuji grumbles, his words coming out a muddled mess.
Sukuna clicks his tongue, maybe he should wish for Yuuji’s silence.
But a sudden thought comes to mind and with one swift motion Sukuna severs Yuuji’s head from his body.
There’s barely a noise of surprise, easily drown out by the echoing crash of the body at Sukuna’s feet.
With hands that are much more careful now, Sukuna cradles the head, bringing it closer for more inspection.
He ignores brilliant amber eyes that are cooling rapidly and the steady dripping of blood across his hands and sleeves.
His vessel really is a pretty thing, made almost in the image of Sukuna’s original form. Yet sweeter, smaller, with a warmth that Sukuna isn’t sure he’s ever possessed.
The freckles especially are a lovely addition. Almost like stars, but perhaps the better phrase is sun kisses. Humans have come up with a multitude of phrases for the speckles that adorn his vessel's face.
Sukuna idly decides he likes dandelion seeds the best.
Not that he’d say any of this to the brat. There are reputations to uphold and lines that can’t be crossed. So for now, Sukuna will return to his throne and bury Yuuji’s head among the bovine skulls and wait for him to revive.
Stupid brat, why did he have to be so fucking cute .
